


We Deserve Much Better Than We've Had

by raininglotus



Category: The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth (2011), The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Based off a song, Implied Character Death, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 16:08:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/750404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raininglotus/pseuds/raininglotus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He heard Esca shouting his name, though, and dragged himself from the darkness to see Esca struggling in the hold of half a dozen men bigger than he was.</p><p>His face was angry, but scared too, and Marcus felt his heart break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Deserve Much Better Than We've Had

**Author's Note:**

> Based on Cosmo Jarvis' [Gay Pirates](http://youtu.be/dysG12QCdTA) song. Originally posted on lj in 2011 from a Pirate AU prompt on the kink meme that I've long since lost the link to.

Something about the new, small, skinny recruit caught Marcus’ attention straight away. Maybe it was how the huge white shirt he was wearing hung so loosely on his body, or maybe it was the blue tattoos he occasionally saw peeking out between the white folds.

Maybe it was his fierce, refined face, or his quick, cutting mouth.

Whatever it was, Marcus felt drawn towards him as soon as he first laid eyes on him.

 

The first time they took him to a tavern, Marcus wasted no time in making his way to the new boy’s side and handed him a tankard of ale. “Put some hair on your chest, boy.”

The other, lounging by the wall, laughed at Marcus, grasped the tankard, tipped his head back and downed it in one, a small trickle making its way down his chin. When it was empty, he handed it back, other sleeve coming up to his face to dab at the trickle.

Marcus took the tankard back, impressed. “Marcus.”

Bright blue eyes grinned back at him, cheeks starting to flush. “Esca.”

 

They became fast friends, laughing on deck while working hard at repairing the wooden floor, or cleaning the canons, or scrubbing the floors. Nothing was hard toil to Marcus when working with Esca, whose bright smile and sweet voice made the day brighter than the sun.

 

Even when the storm struck, and the deck was flooded with rain and seawater, Esca’s laugh as Marcus tripped over his feet warmed up his chilled bones.

He found a sodden shoe floating near him, and threw it at Esca, half way up the mast trying to tighten a loosed knot. They both laughed as Esca dodged just in time. “You need to work on your aim, Marcus!”

He could barely hear Esca’s shout over the roaring of the skies and the sea. “Lucky miss!” he yelled back.

 

The ship was almost calm again, out of the storm, and the two of them, drenched to the bones but laughing over some joke, made their messy way down towards their sleeping quarters, both ready for some rest. A strong lurch sent the two of them towards the starboard side, and Esca’s back hit the wooden panelling the same time Marcus was thrown nearly on top of him. Only quickly throwing out his arms prevented him from completely flattening the smaller man.

Suddenly, Marcus looked down at Esca, his hands on either side of his shoulders against the wall, the other’s hair plastered against his face, and his breathing suddenly became tight.

He didn’t know why he did it. Maybe he was extremely tired after battling to keep the ship from falling apart during the storm. Maybe he’d been wanting to do it for weeks.

He leaned down to meet Esca’s face, and captured the other man’s mouth with his lips.

 

Days passed, and the memory of that first night still never failed to make Marcus smile. The way Esca had grasped his head and moaned against his teeth, the way their sodden clothes had quickly found their way to the floor, Esca’s tattoos, sprawling and beautiful against his skin...Esca’s skin against his, Esca tight around him.

They stole kisses whenever they could, when the captain wasn’t around and none of the others were looking their direction. He wanted Esca’s company, Esca’s mouth, Esca’s skin, and was only too pleased when Esca’s hands would reach out from behind a corner, drag him back there and have their wicked way with him.

Even in their few days of happy oblivion, they found their special niches on the ship where they could escape to and be together, where they thought they wouldn’t be disturbed.

 

They’d been careless, that was only too obvious. If they’d been more careful, maybe they could’ve had longer together.

But they were discovered, too soon, and dragged apart by the jeering men who had once been their comrades-in-arms. Almost before Marcus had realised what was happening, he received a fist to the eye and saw nothing but stars for the next few moments.

He heard Esca shouting his name, though, and dragged himself from the darkness to see Esca struggling in the hold of half a dozen men bigger than he was.

His face was angry, but scared too, and Marcus felt his heart break.

 

They don’t get as much time together any more, and they have to steal cunning moments. Some parts of Marcus hate these moments almost more than being beaten and whipped, as he knows that Esca can see everything, will see his weakness and vulnerability, and he knows from the dark bruises on Esca’s skin that he has been through the same if not worse.

Other parts of him rejoice, helplessly, at having Esca back in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t want this to happen.”

Esca just kisses him softly.

 

He stares down at his ruined hammock, and feels fury stir in his heart. There really is nothing these savages won’t do to him, won’t degrade him to.

He looks up to see cruel smirks, and, at the other side of the dark room, Esca’s blank eyes staring towards him, before they flicker towards the huge, bald man making his way towards him, and Marcus feels Esca’s flinch.

Hatred piles up in Marcus’ chest, but the cruel smiles dare him to do anything.

He resigns himself to curl up in the corner.

 

They pile on him during the night, and Marcus does his best not to cry out.

 

The next morning, as Marcus is putting on his clothes, a pair of hands place his sandals, encrusted with shards of glass, in front of him.

Marcus stretches up, slowly, painfully, and sees another holding Esca, head pulled back by the hair, a dagger perilously close to his throat.

The other man looks pointedly at the sandals, dagger moving closer.

Marcus watches Esca’s face, hating the carefully controlled blankness he sees there, missing when blue eyes would crinkle and mouth turn up in laughter. He reaches out for the sandals and steps into them, hiding his winces.

The other man laughs, wickedly, and sheathes his dagger, pushing Esca forwards then striding away with a disgusted shake of his head.

 

“I would never regret it.”

Marcus’ fingers trace Esca’s black eye, and he gently kisses the edges.

Somehow, just Esca’s presence is enough to make him forget all the aches and sharp pains in his body.

Esca leans up and kisses him, and Marcus feels all the unspoken words there, before Esca pulls away.

“I love you, Marcus.”

Marcus feels his eyes water, and blinks them back.

“I love you too.”

 

“Stop making those kicked-puppy eyes,” the drunk man slurs, coming too close to Marcus’ face. Marcus sets his face, stonily staring back, smelling the reeking beer on the other man’s breath.

“And if you take one more glance towards your little bitch over there,” he breathes harshly against Marcus’ neck, arms propping him up on either side of Marcus’ shoulders in a cruel parody, “I’m gonna make you wish you’d never been born.”

Marcus closes his eyes.

 

The deck is filled with cruel laughs and jeers, and Marcus and Esca are wrenched into the middle, arms held in place behind their backs.

The captain makes his way towards them, lip curling in disgust.

“This is my ship,” the captain says, stopping in front of Marcus. "And I will not tolerate..." He lands a fist in Marcus' already bruised stomach. “...this type of behaviour.”

Gasping, Marcus raises furious eyes to the captain’s, but doesn’t reply.

His heart screams as the captain moves in front of Esca, who stares back at him, bruised but defiant.

The captain has no words this time, instead raising his hand and slapping it, hard, across Esca’s face, the imprints of his rings leaving bright red streaks.

“Toss them overboard,” the captain says, turning back to his cabin.

A roar of cheers meets this order, and Marcus is pulled forward and put on his knees, people swarming everywhere he sees. He feels his wrists wrenched together, and thick, course rope wrapped tightly – too tightly – around them.

He sees Esca’s pale face now, hands in the same position as Marcus, and he hopes that Esca can still feel his hands. He can’t feel his own.

Their eyes meet as the gangway clears to the edge of the ship, the deep blue sea beckoning.

_No regrets._

**Author's Note:**

> The [song](http://youtu.be/dysG12QCdTA) this is based on, although sad, does end on a slightly more uplifting note and y'all should go listen.


End file.
